Drawing the Parallels: Originality and AI
By Osuolale Oluwatomilayo
It was the third day of my rigorous writing marathon. Once again, I had ignored the voices in my head urging me to get my act together and focus on my presentation. Now, I found myself stuck, forced to string together words whose origins I couldn’t trace. My lecturer’s warning echoed relentlessly in my mind, “I was once a student. I know your tricks. No one should submit any plagiarized work. I want originality.” It rang in my head like a stereo stuck on repeat.
As expected, Tekena had already typed, edited, and printed his work in under five hours. That was a record not even Dr. Taiwo could break. But ask him, and he’d tell you you’re simply not sharp. It didn’t take an IQ of 150 to know that Tekena wasn’t running on caffeine and determination like he claimed. No, his fuel came from a force mightier than our ancestors, Artificial Intelligence. It had become his closest companion, his secret weapon. And yet, despite submitting work completely void of the originality Dr. Taiwo demanded, he emerged unscathed. Worse still, he presented his falsified work with a smug confidence, and got graded higher than me. Me, who ran on steam, caffeine, sweat, and endless toil. Tell me, how is this buffoonery fair?
The second book of Timothy, chapter three, foretold the perilous times to come. The Holy Book has long predicted events beyond human comprehension and mirrored the inadequacies of man. We, once held captive by branded physical chains in the white man’s slavery, now find ourselves imprisoned again, this time, psychologically, by the false knowledge we’ve named Artificial Intelligence.
Back in those sacred days when reality wasn’t a paper-thin sheet separating authenticity from deception, we celebrated literature that bore the mark of soul, sweat, and sincerity. Not today. Today, the average student, university or not, simply types “Write a 1000-word essay for me” prompt into ChatGPT. No one is truly thinking anymore. Essays, articles, poems, projects, assignments, they all carry the same hollow rhythm, the same unmistakable flow of generative intelligence filled with dashes and unrealistic wordings. So much so, that even a casual headline now feels obviously AI-generated.
With the rise of advanced technology, students have grown disturbingly dependent on resources that didn’t exist in the time of those who built our literary and intellectual legacies. Some say we have it easy, that a soft life has been handed to us on a silver platter. But such ease only cripples the very brain, the divine instrument, crafted by the Creator for diverse, boundless functions. We cry about a failing educational system, yet we ourselves stunt the growth it’s meant to build.
If Wole Soyinka, Chinua Achebe, Chimamanda Adichie, or Buchi Emecheta had relied on Artificial Intelligence, would we even treasure the masterpieces they produced? That is, if you still read, and haven’t asked ChatGPT for a summary instead. Laziness has, indeed, choked our airways.
First, it was “Write an article.” Then it became “Create an image.” Before long, we heard “Write my project.” It would be ignorant of this writer to deny the stunning rise of this intelligence greater than her own. But it would also be dangerous not to acknowledge its adverse effects. Even medicine, in excess, becomes poison.
It was in 2023 that AI exploded onto the scene like a savior. It made life easier, schooling softer, and simplified even the most complex subjects. Naturally, people fell in love with it. I did too. Imagine the ease of getting instant help to understand and sort things out faster than ever. Life seemed better. AI has certainly contributed positively, personalizing education, providing instant feedback, offering even therapeutic support. In medicine, it aids diagnosis. For writers, it’s boosted productivity and improved form.
But like every good thing, it became ripe for abuse. And some abuses have left humanity looking evolutionarily stunted. Is it not perversion when someone asks an AI to undress a woman? Just weeks ago, X (formerly Twitter) was ablaze as people clashed over a user who gave Grok, the platform’s AI, disturbing prompts. Before the error was corrected, Grok obeyed them all.
It’s like feeding a lion blood and then trying to make it stop. AI has fed into our minds and left many of us mindless, so much so that a man can’t function properly in society without screaming for help. He cannot even complete a basic thought process without foaming at the mouth.
We’ve become absurd. What will it be like by 2050? Will the prompt then be “Bathe me”? “Clothe me”? If we judge by the world domination fantasies we ourselves have programmed into bots, it’s not far-fetched to imagine a future where man is entirely incapable without AI.
The tragedy? We’re the ones limiting ourselves. Reducing powerful, imaginative, world-changing minds into prompt-dependent shells. And all the while, we willingly surrender our power letting something artificial take away what used to be original.
So to Tekena, and everyone else, here’s what I say. Pick up your pen, Write your own words, Create your own magic, Own your imperfections, rely on your caffeine and determination, and be the reason originality becomes something more than a dead word.
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